Chapter Text
Noah Grant still wasn’t sure what to make of Saturno, whom he still didn’t have a last name from. He couldn’t find any information on him on the basic web. There was no social media, no news reports which he had expected considering his car was blown to hell, and he hadn’t yet seen the guy use a phone.
He had his theories as to the mysterious strangers' backstory, and the warning Alan had given him about aliens rang through his thoughts, but he tried his best to push those aside. Saturno was certainly strange for a human, but Noah assumed that was just because he had been through a traumatic ordeal. He hoped.
The door of the diner opened with a chime and Noah stepped in with a small sigh. It had been a week since Saturno had arrived, and things had gotten a little easier around the diner since then. Saturno was a hard worker, if a quiet one. He didn’t seem to have much to say, or if he did he didn’t seem keen on saying it to Noah, but that was alright. Kind of.
Noah burned with curiosity every time he saw Saturno stare off broodingly into the distance, or paused to carefully redecorate the chalkboard signs with a thoughtfulness that didn’t seem to fit the usually abrasive man. He wanted to ask him where he studied art, but he didn’t want to scare him off. Perhaps scare wasn’t the right word. Saturno hardly seemed to fear anything, but Noah had a feeling if he pried too much the man would leave. Noah didn’t want him to leave. For the first time in years, the diner seemed interesting to him again. His life seemed interesting again.
He knew his clock was ticking, and spending what little time he had left with the interesting stranger was at least better than spending it alone. Sure, he would have loved to spend it in the arms of a lover, or even alongside a friend, but Saturno was enough. He had to be.
Noah stopped by the stairs and was about to call up into the attic when a figure moved in his peripheral vision. He jumped in surprise and let out a little squeak of fear to see Saturno looming over him with a raised eyebrow.
“S-Saturno!” He exclaimed, placing a hand over his heart. “I didn’t see you there.”
The dark-haired man just stared skeptically for a long moment and Noah waited for him to say something. Anything.
“I got up early,” he said at last, and Noah let out a sigh of relief.
“I see that,” the diner owner agreed, and offered a sheepish smile. “I didn’t know you were a morning person.”
“I’m not,” Saturno grumbled back. Noah gave him a questioning look, but the taller man didn’t seem to want to elaborate. He turned away from Noah and began to run the coffee machine. Saturno liked the vanilla shake Noah had given him on the first day, but after trying coffee he had grown a mild obsession with it. Noah had shown him how to use the machine and told him he was free to use as much as he wanted.
“I need to go out today and get some supplies,” Saturno explained at last, turning around with a steaming mug. “I’ll be back before the diner opens.”
“Oh,” Noah’s eyes widened in realization. “I forgot you were still repairing your car. Why don’t you take the day off –”
He could see Saturno’s eyes already narrowing so he quickly shook his hands to wave off his worry.
“You won’t owe me anything – it’s pretty common for employees to have weekends.”
He crossed his fingers by his side, internally pleading that the other man would accept his offer. Saturno slowly took a sip of the steaming coffee, and Noah once again wondered how he managed to handle the temperature. Finally, he nodded.
“Fine. But it shouldn’t take the whole day,” Saturno determined. Noah smiled and nodded.
“Take as much time as you need.”
Saturno narrowed his eyes, the way he always did when Noah offered him things. Food, extra cash from the tip jar – the set of clothes from the department store. Noah couldn’t help it. The man was clearly in need and even if Noah didn’t know why, it didn’t feel right leaving him to suffer alone.
“Will you be able to manage until I get back?” Saturno asked finally, and Noah’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. There were brief moments when Saturno would say something thoughtful, and Noah couldn’t help the way his heart softened every time. It felt like progress.
“I’ll be fine,” Noah agreed with a warm smile. Saturno just grunted in response and then chugged the rest of the burning hot coffee before putting it into the sink. Noah shook his head in disbelief. How he handled the heat, Noah was dying to know. Saturno had nothing else to say, so he grabbed his leather jacket and headed for the door. Noah felt his shoulders wilt slightly as he watched his broad shoulders disappear with a chime from the bell on the door. The diner was suddenly overcome with a haunting silence. Noah hugged his stomach with a sigh.
“Strange, strange man,” he muttered to himself. “Good looking though.”
He walked over to his radio and tuned in to a calming jazz station. The music pushed out the silence and Noah felt his shoulders relax more. He hummed along with the tune and began to prepare the kitchen for customers. It didn’t take long for him to fall into a familiar routine, only this time his thoughts were plagued with the stranger living in the diner attic. Despite all the mystery, and the aggressive behaviour, there was something familiar about him. There was an energy around him. One Noah hadn’t felt in years. He had an inkling of an idea about what it meant, but he hoped he was wrong. The last thing he needed was for the age-old war of wars to follow him here…
The signal was growing stronger the further he got from the city. The outskirts of the city were barren, and nothing like Cybertron, and he hated it. The reddish earth was dusty, and sandy, and it got into his wheels and gears and made him want to rip a mech's helm from their shoulders to calm himself.
Needless to say, he almost turned around three times in pursuit of the energon. He couldn’t afford to do that though. He needed energon yesterday. He couldn’t afford to just skip out because of a little sand. Well…
A fraggin’ shuttle class bot’s subspace worth of sand.
Sunstreaker muttered darkly as he sped as fast as his broken alt mode would allow through the desert that seemed to stretch for miles. The blinking light from the signal only got bigger and bigger, and that motivated him to keep driving despite his discomfort.
Finally, the signal took him off the road, and once he was far enough from where a human might have spotted him, he transformed and stared upwards at the open cave mouth where the signal was coming from. He was surprised there was energon here. It looked extremely easy to reach, which meant both factions should have pounced on the opportunity long enough. He pulled his energon blade out of subspace, not wanting to take his chances, but hoping he was wrong and this location was abandoned. He could have taken on some canon fodder cons, but any major players would have the upper servo considering his extensive injuries.
Slowly, he began to climb the side of the cliff. It didn’t take him long to realize there was almost a path traveling up to the cave mouth. That only set him more on edge, and his servo tightened around his blade hilt as he neared the top.
When he reached the entrance, his indigo optics widened in surprise. The sight that met him was not what he was expecting at all. The interior of the cave looked remarkably like the diner he’d been staying at for the past earth week. The only major difference was everything here was carved out of stone. Benches, tables, even a countertop with an entrance that led into a back section of the cave.
That wasn’t so important to him though. His optics were immediately drawn to the glowing cubes of energon on the stone shelves behind the counter. Sunstreaker glanced around with a glare before hurrying towards the supply. Did he know who he was stealing from? Not at all. Did he care? It was low down on his list of concerns.
He smirked to himself and reached out for one of the cubes, just as a small visored helm popped up beside him.
“Excuse me – you’re not supposed to be back here,” a feminine voice spoke up in a smooth Crystal City accent. Sunstreaker jerked in surprise and in the shutter of an optic he had his sword leveled directly at the mysterious femmes helm.
Her blue visor turned brighter in surprise at the sight of the weapon.
“I’m afraid weapons aren’t allowed in here either,” she added. Sunstreaker glared and immediately moved to grab her, but in a swift move she danced out of his reach and flipped up onto the bar counter.
“Is that how you normally say hello?” She scolded, putting her slender servos on her hips. She was only twelve feet tall – practically a minibot, and she bore no insignia on her chest. At least she wasn’t a Decepticon. Her paint was mostly a very dark gray, nearly black, with pink blue and purple accents decorating her arms and legs. She had clearly scanned some sort of earth race car, considering the numbers and lettering mixed into her paint. A spoiler rose from her back, aligned well. Her helm was round, with glowing pink biolights on the side of her face, and a glowing pink crystal just above her visor. The mark of a wealthy Crystal City citizen. Sunstreaker glared.
“Who are you?” He snarled out. The femme fixed him with a scolding look.
“I believe you mean, what is your name?” She chided. He scoffed and rolled his optics, but didn’t correct himself.
“My name is Starlander,” she continued. “And you must be Sunstreaker,” she added calmly. He raised an optic ridge, but he wasn’t that surprised that he was recognized. It came with being a frontline commander, and an ex-gladiator.
“Don’t tell me you were a fan,” he sneered. She checked all the boxes. Wealthy, high-class. She probably bet on his fights before.
“I’m appalled! Never. I worked in the senate to try and put an end to those Primus-forsaken rings,” she replied solemnly, and looked away briefly with a distant expression. It passed as soon as it came and she turned back to him with a raised optic ridge.
“Would you like some energon?”
“What is this place?” He demanded, instead of answering her question. Starlander smiled brightly and sat down cross-legged on to the countertop. He narrowed his optics, but she didn’t seem keen on battling. He itched for a fight after the day he’d been having, but he did want energon, and he’d rather not kill this tiny neutral if he could avoid it. He put his blade back into subspace and stared at her.
“I’m still working on a name,” the small femme admitted. “But, well Star’s Bar has a certain ring to it don’t you think?”
Sunstreaker just fixed her with a deadpan expression.
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“It’s a neutral zone!” She chirped happily. He glared again.
“Don’t be stupid.”
“I’m serious,” she argued, crossing her arms tightly.
“There are no neutral zones,” he snapped.
“Exactly. About time we had one, don’t you think?” She questioned. Sunstreaker just shook his helm with another scoff.
“Either you’re glitched in the helm, or you’re lying. Megatron would never agree to a neutral zone.”
Starlander fixed him with an offended expression.
“Excuse me – that is no way to talk to a fellow bot,” she scolded. Sunstreaker rolled his eyes like a sparkling being reprimanded by its mentor.
“I am perfectly fine, thank you. As a past senator, I think I’m uniquely equipped to establish a neutral zone. Now, would you like a cube or not?” She repeated. Sunstreaker muttered to himself. He had wanted to just take a cube and get back to the diner, but now he had no choice but to agree. He didn’t have any credits though.
“I don’t have credits to pay you, minibot.”
“Actually, I’m not quite a minibot, and lucky for you I take more than credits,” she explained. Sunstreaker grew even more wary.
“What do you want then?” He demanded.
“I exchange drinks for stories, or assistance building this place,” Star replied, far too cheerily in his opinion. He narrowed his optics more.
“Stories? I’m not a sparkling tutor,” he grumbled.
“Not a bedtime story,” she shook her helm, and Sunstreaker noted the human phrase. “I want to know how you arrived on earth.”
He felt his armor tense and press closer to his protoform, but Star smiled and began to make a cube for him before he could agree.
“Why do you want to know that?” He hissed out, watching her every movement with mistrust.
“I’m keeping a record. I’m hoping to document survivors of the war, and their personal stories. Maybe then – if this war should end us all ...well, our legacy will be more than the planets we destroyed,” Starlander said softly. Sunstreaker stared at her curiously before shaking his helm again with a vent.
“That’s never going to happen.”
“Good thing it’s not your mission,” she chuckled to herself and turned back around with a fresh cube in her servos.
“Other species believe we were built solely for war,” Sunstreaker reminded her. “I don’t see what a few datapad entries could do to change that.”
He looked down at the cube and eyed it curiously, making sure she hadn’t put anything in it that would poison him. He even went so far as to scan it. Starlander didn’t seem to judge him for this choice. Every bot knew that you couldn’t be too careful these days.
“Well, I’m a bit of an optimist. Always have been,” she replied, and his words hadn’t seemed to have any effect on her, considering the determination in her tone. She reminded him of Sideswipe, in that way.
“Can’t help crazy,” he grumbled, before picking up the cube and chugging it. His relief was palpable. He could feel several subsidiary systems turning back on, and his optics brightened fully. His motor function returned to full capacity, and he could even feel self-repair kick into action. It had shut off a few days ago to conserve energy.
“My, you certainly needed the pick-me-up,” she giggled. He shot her an annoyed glance.
“Why is this place here?” He questioned. Starlander nodded towards him.
“For bots like you of course. Energon is pretty scarce, and both factions use it for ammo, and keeping their ships and bases online I assume. It’s probably been awhile since you’ve had a place where you could sit down and drink a nice cube of high-grade.”
Sunstreaker’s optics widened and he checked his fuel levels. Sure enough, the surplus energy boost was present. The mark of a good high-grade drink. Starlander kept speaking.
“A little taste of home. I think it’ll make everyone a little more receptive to the idea of a neutral zone,” she explained. Sunstreaker said nothing, but she was right. He would probably vouch for this place to Optimus if it meant he could show up whenever and get a decent drink. Pit, he’d even beg Prowl. It did remind him of home, only this time it didn’t make his spark ache with Cyberton Blues.
“I guess,” was all he said.
“Well now that you’ve had your cube,” Starlander pressed a button on the side of her helm and a small antenna popped up on the left side. “Mind telling me how you arrived?”
“Crashed,” he muttered. He debated saying more. He doubted she was a Decepticon. No Decepticon would refuel him and then try slagging him. She stared eagerly and he sighed.
“I was on the Ark with the rest of the Autobots. We were in space for a while. The Nemesis attacked and the Ark transwarped here, to Earth. I didn’t.” He took another sip. “I was stuck in space for a while, and then I locked onto Sideswipe’s spark signal. I followed it, got shot down, crashed.” He shrugged, and didn’t add anything else on the matter.
“Before the war,” Starlander began, and Sunstreaker could hear the question before she said it. He slammed the cube down with a dark look.
“I don’t want to talk about that,” he growled. Starlander paused for a moment before giving a small nod. The antenna disappeared, and he relaxed marginally.
“So, you must be looking for your twin, and the other Autobots,” she mentioned. He nodded, but his expression did not improve.
“I don’t know where they’re located, but if other Autobots visit…” she played with her digits. “I can pass along a message?”
“And how do I know you won’t run and tell the Decepticons where I am the second you have a chance?”
Starlander crossed her arms.
“Well for one thing, I’m a pacifist. I don’t incite violence unless absolutely necessary. And on another servo… I – haven’t had any Decepticons show up here yet.” She was tense, but Sunstreaker didn’t know why.
“Cross your digits it stays that way,” he scoffed. Starlander just shook her helm.
“They’ll show up eventually. I’m not worried,” she replied softly.
“Then you’re an even bigger idiot than I thought,” he shot back. Starlander lightly smacked his servo and he growled in annoyance. She didn’t seem phased.
“I have a knack for winning bots over. Besides, it can’t be a neutral zone if there are only Autobots here.”
“Trust me, the Decepticons showing up will make it a warzone pretty quick.”
“As if some Autobots wouldn’t try the very thing,” she argued. Sunstreaker opened his intake with a retort on his glossa, but it died quickly. He couldn’t disagree. There were some Autobots that incited as much violence as the Cons. He should know. He was one of them.
“Don’t worry, Sunstreaker. I’ll make it work my own way. I think bots will be receptive to the idea. You seem to be,” she assured, and offered a warm smile. He could tell she felt guilty for what she had said as she looked at him. He could tell she thought she offended him.
“Good luck,” he shrugged, showing there were no hard feelings. He didn’t blame her for what she said or believed. He was a killer, and he had given that name to himself for being a killer. There was no way around it. The reason his spark didn’t flare in anger was because she hadn’t flinched away from him, or treated him like he was a glass frame filled with rage. She treated him like a regular mech. Like a mech with bad manners, but that was better than being treated like some kind of monster.
Sunstreaker stood up, thoughts of Noah Grant running the hectic diner alone filling his processor.
“Come again,” she offered, not moving to stop him or ask where he was rushing off to.
“I’ll have to,” he muttered in an annoyed tone. She just laughed softly to herself and waved goodbye, and then the small femme disappeared into the back cave to return to whatever she had been doing before he arrived. Sunstreaker watched her go before turning to leave.
He arrived back at the diner in much better time, considering his energy levels were up. He parked in the same alleyway as before and activated his holoform. He was glad the program had fixed itself, so now he could turn it on and off at will.
The walk to the diner was short, and the blast of warm air was welcome, but the sound of two male voices was not.
These were not voices he recognized, so he knew it wasn’t one of Noah’s regular customers. Sometimes they got new faces, but it was rare, and the sneering tones coming from them both set Sunstreaker on edge immediately.
His gaze snapped to the counter where Noah was trembling and pulling wads of paper credits out of his machine with shaking fingers. The two men jeered at him and pointed something at his head. Sunstreaker’s spark roared in anger at the sight. He knew a gun when he saw one. Millions of years of war meant he would recognize a gun, no matter how strange a species it came from. He recognized the tension in a frame when a being held one. He recognized the distant and cold look in an eye or optic when they pointed it at another.
Being one himself, he knew what a killer looked like.